Share this:

Like this:

Next week is Thanksgiving. Yes, you read that correctly. As I have done in years past, the preparation of the home for all that is “Holiday” has started. The tree is almost finished and then it’s onward to the other things that will be brought out this year. Those that know me even a tad, know that I see magic all around me during the Holidays. I still see it through the lens of a child….full of wonder and awe of every light, decoration, greeting of “good cheer.” I want the sounds of every Christmas carol to ring day and night, along with the best of the best in contemporary offerings. Dress a tad nicer on Sunday, in celebration of the entire Season…and the reason for it to even exist.

And yet…..in all of my wonder….the first ornament on the tree…for the past three years….has been met with sadness. A bittersweet moment as I remember how excited she was to give her kiddos a selection of ornaments she worked so hard on during her cancer battle. Then I remember her joy, her awe of Christmas and how she just couldn’t have enough ornaments on her tree. I’ve never seen anyone who could make a tree as beautiful as hers. Growing up, we had blue trees, pink trees, white trees…green trees….and often with color coordinated decorations. We may have not had but one or two gifts to open, but we always had the most beautiful tree. As she got older, an artificial tree took over, but every branch was met with an ornament. 1000 lights? Why not double? 2000 has to be better…each branch so carefully wrapped. Days, countless hours…countless sharp looks to the man pacing across the room wondering why each ornament had such a specific spot. Soon, after several ornaments are in place, my sadness is replaced with almost a giddy excitement to see how close I can get to her tree…every branch covered and decorated.

In so many ways, my Christmas tree is a yearly reminder of the best parts of her. Whether it’s me standing back wondering if there is room for just one more ornament, or is there a way to get more lights wrapped into the branches….what if that ornament could speak and tell me exactly what she was thinking the day she created it….these are my grown up Christmas moments.

Then, I step back and see the Hallmark ornaments we started for the kiddos the day they were born. One for each year. Our oldest was given hers when she married, but our son still has his proudly displayed, and each year we continue to add to both of their collections. Each one was carefully picked out by them…on sometimes short, sometimes long visits to Hallmark. Each ornament a reflection of their personality or obsessions at that particular moment.

Today, as I finish the tree….I step back and see a life of memories….her memories, my memories, memories of my kiddos…and I see a tree full of such awe and wonder. I see her. I see my grandparents who are represented by memory ornaments. I see my world through the eyes of a child….believing that Christmas magic is real…Santa does exist and snow holds magical powers on Christmas Day.

So, in my awe and wonder….and believing that Christmas magic does exist…make this one count. Set aside the pain of days past…embracing the idea that everyone has a little bit more love to give during the Season and that Christmas magic really can heal the most broken of hearts.

Share this:

Like this:

Anyone else feel as if they have been put into a washing machine on high spin for eighteen months and suddenly the machine has been turned off?

I’ve started this blog entry literally more times than I can count. I’ve gone to this place in prior blogs, but I seem to be further along now….and still facing just as many questions. Folks, this election has made me weary. Just flat out exhausted. So many emotions, over so many months….taking this broken girl and her heart and her beliefs on a very unplanned journey-well, not unplanned…a journey I was already on, but this election accelerated it.

For the record, we can mark in stone that I love Jesus. I believe He died and rose again on the third day. I believe in the sovereignty of God. I believe that His Word is the period at every statement. I believe in the red letters of Christ just as much as I believe the sun sets in the west. Yet, with all that disclosed, I am changed now….I’m different than just eighteen months ago. I believe, I am changed for the better, or at least in the process of that direction. Some, may wonder if I have fallen to the wayside, some may take my journey as an attack on where they are…and I certainly don’t mean for it to ever come off that way…it’s an attack on where I am…where I was for sure.

I’ve identified with the Evangelical label for as long as I can remember. Maybe I didn’t know what that was back as a young follower of Christ, but I said I was a Southern Baptist, and Evangelical like a badge of honor on my chest. Almost a “I believe what’s right, you believe what’s wrong” approach. Then, somewhere along the way, I began to not feel as if I “fit”….questioned my salvation…God assuring me it was secure….so why did it feel so lost in what should feel like home? I knew I didn’t agree with what was being touted as “feel good theology” so I knew not to go there. I knew I didn’t agree with the new “prosperity theology”, so I knew it was equally as wrong for me. I knew I believed fully in the red letters of Christ. So, I began my journey there….seeking to figure out what that meant for me in a world I had become so comfortable in…my little SBC bubble of life. That was probably six years ago….maybe seven. No one knew….not my spouse or my children. There was a period that I was literally broken in half…and at a crossroads. Few knew….and few know to this day.

I went to church. I served. All the while, questioning why I felt so lost in what should feel like home. Why I would leave on Sundays angry…I don’t mind leaving convicted, but I shouldn’t leave angry. Isn’t the point to attend and leave challenged to be working to be more like Christ…to be a witness to a world seeking hope? (Please do not take my comments as not loving my church-I did, I still do. Some of the most amazing people I have ever met in my entire life. A man in the pulpit that loves Jesus with every cell in his body. But this blog, it’s about my heart…my journey and the questions it has raised towards myself…towards an entire label.)

Then, we moved. I was forced to leave my bubble of life….my comfort zone…even when I felt so uncomfortable sometimes, it was familiar…it was safe…it was mine. I moved to an area where I couldn’t just look up a FBC in the phone book, go sit down and continue. I moved to an area where my normal didn’t exist. I moved where Jesus was loved, but church was far different…the pulpit was different…the mission was different and yet the same….everything was different and yet, with Jesus still center…the same.

During this period of adjustment, we landed in three churches before our current landing. Meeting some amazing people, some of which I call “friend” today. And like only our God can do, He tossed an election into my lap and said..ok, Kim, what about all of this? Here I was, already deep into a journey of uncertainty of where I fit….and then He forced me to take in one of the ugliest elections in my lifetime. One that broke every norm. During the election, right when it was really starting to become nothing short of horrific to watch, is when we landed at our current church. It was by chance we landed there at all, but then again, God isn’t into “by chance.”

Christine Caine was coming to speak at a local mega-church. I am a huge Caine fan. I had to go. We “cheated” on our church at the time and went. And it happened. My heart, felt at home. Still not sure what it all meant, but I knew with every ounce of Jesus in me…this was it. This was what my heart was seeking….missing. My heart needed Jesus presented with Biblical truth, but with a love everyone, love always heartbeat. That attitude that before someone can really hear about Jesus, you have to meet them where they are..not where you want them to be. That inclusion that still holds true to Biblical truth, but with a love that oozes from the pores of those giving out the love. Most of all, my heart wanted a pulpit based on Jesus, but far removed from politics. My heart was weary…it was tired…and it was growing bitter. No denomination on the door….just the Gospel of Jesus and the doctrine according to Christ.

Now, let me go back to before…and during all of this…the election came. What I haven’t brought back up today really is how during all of this…even now…I was/am struggling to my very core about the word Evangelical. The election just highlighted that struggle in my life. Things were said and done that were so far removed from what I believe Christ wants in us as people…towards our fellow man, my heart just reeled. Triggers took place that brought up childhood incidents that I thought were long buried. Then…in all of it…I saw Christian leaders I admired come to the defense…fall on the sword to defend…for what, to me, only seemed like man desperate for the power that would come with a result. So much was the polar opposite of what I had grown to believe over a lifetime as to what Christ expected of us as human beings…what he so called out for. I grew increasingly confused, increasingly angry…increasingly counting down the days to Sunday morning or Wednesday night where I could be reminded….not all are falling on the sword….not all are telling me it’s my duty as a Christian to fall in line. I saw people I care about deeply hurt by words so offensive that they had to be “bleeped” on national TV. I saw entire groups of people called out in such hateful ways that I grew even more angry. I’m one of the “Evangelicals” people are talking so poorly about…I’m a member of this group that is supporting such hateful words. How can that be? I don’t agree with any of these words. I don’t agree with the agenda of Jesus as a political tool for power. Maybe, I’m not an Evangelical. Maybe, I’m not the label.

As I said earlier, I’ve blogged about this before, but today feels different. Today feels certain. Today, my heart is not burdened with the label. Today, because of a church that fed my heart words of truth in hope and love….because of a horribly nasty election, because of a son in the arts, because I never felt my heart fit….I can say with a peace I don’t take the label anymore. I don’t want it. I want to love Jesus…and love others. Please know, this is my journey and is certainly not directed towards anyone but myself. With that said, I won’t lie. I don’t get it. I don’t get why more didn’t speak out in loud voices….why the seat on the Supreme Court was more important than speaking out against the words that hurt so many. It sent such a mixed and hurtful message to a lost world watching our actions. We have worked so hard to stand in Biblical truth….then when in front of a world audience…we stood silent. At least it seemed that way by the words by leaders and people of influence. I’ll never forget the day women such as Beth Moore spoke out so directly against sexual assault or the words that implied it. I’ll also never forget when we came out in swarms to eat one of our own, Jen Hatmaker, when she spoke her views. Those that counsel her spoke to her in private…why did so many of us take to social media to literally eat her alive….and discard all the good she had done for women, lost women…prior to a statement that use the word “Holy” when well..what I think of that is so complex, it’s a blog post on its own (I support and love those I know in that community and that’s all that needs to be said.)…but I’m not going to tar and feather a woman that has been such a light to so many women. No one forces us to buy books or attend conferences with any speaker….show our disagreement by no longer supporting the work…but attacking someone so ferociously on social media was heartbreaking to watch. I’ll also never forget the words of Christine Caine on our role as Christians towards Syrian refugees. I will also forever remember being reminded that God puts angels everywhere…and what if He has placed angels among those refugees…and the tears He must shed as we, as a nation. turn them away out of fear. What if God is sending us a nation to show the love of Christ to…and we shut the door from fear? A fear we are told not to hold in our heart. What good is our “pro-life” stance, if we turn away the least of these out of fear, how is one life more valuable than another? Dr. Russell Moore, James McDonald (post advisory board), Bill Hybels, Steve Carter, so many female authors and speakers….literally I cannot, even now, get enough of their wisdom on Jesus…the Bible, on how to be more red letter….

I’m still angry, but less angry each day. Those stages of grief seem to apply to almost every facet of change in our lives. I have to think I’m more to the “sad” stage…..far less questioning of my personal “what label do I want, if any”….and more a question of trying to understand how I got here…and trying to understand where others are in their journey. Sad, because I don’t understand. I want to….but right now, I don’t. I sense less anger towards all of it today than even just 24 hours ago…certainly less than three months ago.

I’m processing Romans 15 these days….trying to grasp that when we were told to welcome, embrace…it wasn’t with conditions….it was certain.

I’m thinking of Matthew 5…when Christ gave his Sermon on the Mount.

I’m thinking of how incredibly heartbreaking it is that any life on this earth needs a hashtag to be heard or seen.

I wonder how many fellow “Evangelical” folks are out there that have been on this same journey I have been on….even before the ugliness of 2016. I’ve seen more women than men based upon folks I follow. Why is that?

Would I have gotten this far in this journey without the move…without the election? It’s pointless to even try to say anything but, no. What idols have I allowed to be covered with the weaponization of Jesus? Who have I hurt by views formed from life in a bubble? Non-Christians, fellow believers? Are my words today possibly words another person can take as hurtful to maybe where they are in their journey? Please know…this is my journey. I’ve likely made far too much of it public over the past two years….but I want to be able to go back two years from now and say..ok…progress has been made.

God has blessed my beyond measure with girlfriends who know my heart and my struggles and love me anyways….just as I love them in return…even when we may be on polar opposite spectrums on so many things. My tribe has always loved me in spite of me. Just as Jesus does…in spite of me…He still loves me.

I’m thankful for this season and the conviction and necessity to really work on what Kim stood for..who Kim is as a Christian. Realizing one walk will never look like another walk. Realizing it’s ok to question things….ok to step outside your bubble and jump in…to the coldest pool on earth…trusting there is a warm hand waiting.

My son, my gifted musician, has been more of a catalyst than he can ever know. His circle, his footprint on the world, forced me more than almost anything else before the move to dig deep…question…consider the idea that maybe many of my beliefs/routines were more man made that Christ made. I’m forever grateful for this influence.

In a way, I am now in the dryer after being in the washing machine for so long…and on high speed for that last several months….hopeful that maybe when I come out…a few less wrinkles in place and a clean heart ready for this new stage.

And for those reading thinking Kim has gone over the edge…nah…..can’t go over what you went over years ago!